


Deviation

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Series: Deviation [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Besotted Hannibal, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Codependency, Dark Will Graham, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Homophobic Language, Inspired by Dexter, M/M, Murder Husbands, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Press and Tabloids, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Sassy Will Graham, Tabloids, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Will Graham Doesn’t Need Help, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: This is an alternate universe where Hannibal and Will met in boarding school and form an inseparable (murdery) bond. All grown up the Murder Husbands are targeting other serial killers. Freddie is covering their kills, hopes they are hot and isn’t sure exactly why Jack wants to stop them. Alana likes to drink their beer. All them make Jack cranky. Features flashbacks to boarding school days.
Relationships: Jimmy Price/Brian Zeller, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Deviation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792411
Comments: 26
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

“Ms. Lounds-”

“Freddie,” she said and sat down across from Jack Crawford at the interview desk. The interrogation room was stark, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. “Friends call Freddie.”

“Ms. Lounds, please-”

“Ouch, I’m hurt. Here I thought we were besties,” Freddie said and fake clutched her heart. “The least you could’ve done was have the decency to talk to me up in your office.”

“This will have to do,” Jack said. 

“I know I’m not arrested because you would be violating all sorts of rights if I was. Why am I here again?”

“We’re having a conversation,” Jack said. “Before we start, can you please hand over your recording device.”

“I’m not sure I like this conversation,” Freddie said. “I gave that to the security guard.”

“Your other recording device,” Jack insisted. “And please shut your cell phone off and place it face down on the table. We will detect if you are recording this conversation via any other means.”

“You’re no fun,” Freddie said with a little pout, but produced a small bug out of her bra and turned off her cell phone. She laid both on the table. “Happy now?”

“Thank you for complying, Ms. Lounds. Your story-”

“Oh, I just knew you were a faithful reader of TattleCrime.com, but confirmation is always gratifying,” Freddie said. “Which feature is your favourite?”

Jack held the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing through clenched teeth. 

“None,” Jack said. “You know which one we need to discuss.”

“The one with guy who keeps feet as trophies and likes to suck on the mummified toes?”

“No,” Jack said. “Please don’t make this anymore painful than it needs to be.” 

Freddie pursed her lips. “Right, right. Too bad. The readers loved that one. You must mean that freak with the trained rats-“

“‘Ms. Lounds, this isn’t a game,” Jack said. 

Freddie smiled her fake smile and said, “I honestly don’t know which of my spectacularly written stories you could possibly be talking about.”

Jack turned his computer screen and tapped the flashing headline of ‘Murder Husband Hunt Sickos’.

“Oh, Murder Husbands!” Freddie all but squealed. “One of our best click bait ever. Excellent choice. Great series of stories. They’re fascinating, aren’t they?”

“The information in your most recent article wasn’t available to the public,” Jack said. “We’re here to discuss your source.”

“The psychological profile was so intriguing. Dr. Bloom is quite articulate and no, I’m not giving up my source,” Freddie said. “Freedom of the press and all that.”

“Ms. Lounds, you’re obstructing justice and tipping off dangerous-”

“Serial killers who target other serial killers,” Freddie said. “Who am I alerting, the sickos? The Murder Husbands aren’t exactly subtle. Cute name, don’t you think? Murder Husbands is so catchy and I hope they like it.”

“I am not confirming either gender or the number of suspects,” Jack said. 

“It’s two men and we both know it. Two very much in love men. My readers are eating their antics and dynamic up. Killers in love. A dark epic love story.... apex predators mated for life. These guys are like the megladon sharks snacking on great whites. It’s so romantic. Shakespeare would have written a play about it.”

“You’re no Shakespeare, Ms. Lounds,” Jack said. “Which brings us back to why you’re here. Stop glorifying these murders.”

After a brief pause Freddie taped her chin with her finger.

“Mmm, no,” Freddie. “Remind me again why we’re trying to catch these guys?”

“Murder is murder,” Jack said. 

“Is it really though?” Freddie said. “They’ve elevated this to art. They’re displaying their serial killer kills as a warning to other monsters. For each of their kills the authorities have established the ‘victims’ were monsters. They’re stalking and killing other serial killers all over the country, maybe the world, and it looks like they’ve been doing it for years.”

“Vigilantes are still murderers.”

“Maybe,” Freddie said and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe not. Aren’t they doing you a favour?”

“No. We catch murderers. End of story,” Jack said. He was taping his pen on the table top. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m a lot of things, but the last time I checked I’m not a serial killer,” Freddie said. “I’m not their usual target practise. Shall we discuss Dr. Bloom’s profile further? The profile says two highly educated caucasian males in a co-dependent, sexual relationship. I hope they’re hot. I thought it was interesting she couldn’t decide on a label of sociopath or psychopath... she’s not exactly sure what that they are and that’s fascinating. They’re highly intelligent, like omnibus intellect level. They mostly likely share a folie à deux delusion and have access to substantial recourses. What is one’s weakness is the other’s strength - they balance each other out. One of them has a delightful, morose sense of humour.”

“You added the last one,” Jack said. 

“I did,” Freddie agreed and pulled out crime scene photos from her purse, tossing them onto Jack’s desk. “Don’t worry. I have digital copies. Take a look at those and tell me one of the Murder Husbands doesn’t have a wicked sense of humour. Sure there’s all the higher level meta shit with drama, but that’s dark humour at its best. After what that monster did to his victims, others would say its justified.”

Jack scowled. “Where did you get-”

“That is neither here nor there,” Freddie said. “They sell and should be up on my site by now. Before you bring up my source again, I’d love you to have my lawyer’s card. Kaspische?”

Freddie took out a stark white business card from her satchel and tossed it in on the table. 

“Go away, Ms. Lounds,” Jack said. 

“Can I quote you on that?”

<><><><><><>

“You two are adorable,” Alana said with a laugh. She was sitting at an immaculately and elaborately set dining room table in Will and Hannibal’s recently purchased home. 

“We have been called much worse things,” Will said, sitting across from Alana. 

“Indeed,” Hannibal agreed. Hannibal was dressed impeccably in tones of blue that matched the evening’s decor. 

“So how did you two met?” she asked. “College?”

Will exchanged a brief glance with Hannibal who gave him a minute nod. Hannibal was up and refilling their wine glasses. 

“Long story short,” Will said. “We were high school sweethearts.”

“Now that I wasn’t expecting,” Alana said and smiled.

“Makes for a good story, though,” Will said and sipped his red wine. “Doesn’t it?”

“So, it’s not true?” Alana asked. 

“Oh, it’s true,” Hannibal added, setting a freshly opened microbrewery beer in front Alana. “We met at one of the country’s foremost boarding schools. My uncle sent me there from abroad to learn English.”

“I was the resident charity case,” Will said. 

“He was there on a scholarship because he was and remains captivatingly brilliant,” Hannibal corrected.

“Hannibal is bias,” Will said.

“I am.” Hannibal sat down in the chair next to Will’s. Their legs touched and Hannibal reached out to lay his hand over Will’s, intertwining their fingers. 

“Hannibal and I came from different worlds, but we clicked. Opposites attract and all that. I was on scholarship because my dad was their school custodian and died on the job,” Will said. “That’s how someone like me ended up an elite boarding school with someone like Hannibal.” 

Hannibal made a displeased sound. 

“Will’s self-depreciation is not one of his best qualities,” Hannibal said. “He was the only equal and friend I had there.”

“Did you share a dorm room?” Alana asked. “If I’m getting too personal just tell me.”

“Only because no one else would share with a foreigner,” Hannibal said.

“Now who’s been self-depreciating?” Will asked. “Hannibal didn’t mind being friends with a freak.”

“Will...” Hannibal said in a warning tone. 

“Sorry, social outcast,” Will corrected. “I was the weird, gay kid.”

“It couldn’t have been easy for you,” Alana said. 

Will’s face darkened for a minute, but Hannibal squeezed his hand. 

“What matters is we found each other,” Hannibal said. “Cliche as it may be, but it was love at first sight.”

“Hannibal didn’t mention that the first time he saw me I was getting into a scrap with other kids-”

“Bullies,” Hannibal said. “I do detest such ill-mannered swine. Will was surrounded by a group of-”

“I was getting an ass whooping by a group of homophobic older boys for being mouthy,” Will said with a soft chuckle as if it was a fond memory. “Hannibal came to my defence.”

“He was holding his own,” Hannibal said. “He was small for his age,  
but managed to take down two of them. I merely intervened in an unfair fight.”

“Your first date was a teenage brawl?” Alana asked. “That’s sort of romantic.”

“It almost got me expelled on my first day of at the school if my uncle hadn’t intervened,” Hannibal said. 

“Hannibal has had my back since day one,” Will said. 

Hannibal lifted Will’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “And I always shall, mylimasis.”

“A true love story, then,” Alana said. “You haven’t dated anyone else?”

“No,” Hannibal said. “Nor have we ever had the desire to do so.”

“What brings you to our fair city, again?” Alana asked. 

“Career opportunity,” Will answered. “Hannibal is a surgeon and there was an excellent opportunity at a local hospital.”

“If I didn’t know he was in medicine, I’d swear he was a chef after tonight’s incredible meal. What do you for a living, Will?” Alana asked.

“I’m a graphic designer. It let’s me work from home and keep my own hours,” Will said. “We move ever few years for Hannibal’s career. I don’t mind. He helps so many people. I’m content with my scribbles.”

“Will is being modest,” Hannibal said. “He is a true artist and he does work in other mediums. Exquisite works of art.”

“I would love to see them,” Alana said. 

Will and Hannibal exchange a shared look.

“Maybe some day,” Will said. “For now I like to keep my creations private.”

“That’s okay.”

“Sorry for being awkward, Alana,” Will said. “I don’t do people very well.”

“I’m glad we met,” Alana said. “A happy coincidence we met at the farmer’s market.”

Hannibal smiled. “Yes, a happy coincidence indeed.”

“Will, if you don’t mind me saying,” Alana said. “You’re very different now, than in public. Hannibal did most of the talking when we first met and I am pleasantly surprised and happy that you’re comfortable enough to relax around me.”

“Will finds large crowds difficult,” Hannibal said.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Will muttered. “I’d be a hermit if it wasn’t for Hannibal. Usually he’s the only company I need other than the dogs.”

Will saw the look Alana gave him. It was the look of the psychiatrist analyzing him and Hannibal laid a calming hand into his thigh. Hannibal gave Will a calming squeeze. Will avoided Alana’s gaze by glancing down. 

“Oh,” Alana said, having the grace to realize her faux pas. “Excuse me. Sometimes I have trouble shutting it off. I’m very sorry.”

Will kept glancing down and Hannibal suggested, “Perhaps now is an apt time for dessert? I made black cake. It’s one of Will’s favourites.”

“Yes, please. That is one of the best meals I have ever had,” Alana said. “I appreciate it very much.”

Hannibal slightly inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment and manners. 

Alana held up her beer bottle. “A toast to... new beginnings, wonderful hosts and new friendships.” 

Will and Hannibal picked up their glasses and clinked them first with each other and then with Alana.

“How delightful,” Hannibal said. “To new friendships.”


	2. Deviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannnibal AU - Will meets Hannibal for the first at boarding school.

(The first time Will met Hannibal)

“You’re nothin’ but a faggot.”

Will said nothing but cocked his head to the side and smiled at his tauntee. “Yes, but you’re not my type and you were the one looking at me-“

“Fuck off,” the bully snapped, colour rising on his cheeks. “Grab that mouthy, lying lil’ faggot.” 

The group of teens circling Will were all wearing the same school uniform, but Will’s was rumpled, untucked and faded enough to clearly be secondhand. Commanded by the oldest and largest teen, four of then cornered Will, blocking Will’s escape. 

“It’s not that easy,” one of the minions complained and lunged at Will, who side-stepped the aggressor. “He’s a quick little shit.”

“Graham, it would be easier on everyone if you just took your beating,” the ringleader said. “We can’t let you forget your place, now can we? White trash faggot.”

One of the minions grabbed Will’s shirt sleeve, but Will used the momentum to propel himself in the opposite direction. Will took a punch the side of his head, but it barely connected. Will widened his stance and balled his fists. 

“Suit yourself,” the ring leader said and shrugged, “Now its going to be even worse. Make him bleed, guys.” 

Then the ringleader charged at Will. Will let the larger teen grab onto his shirt. He used the bigger teen’s weight and forward momentum to flip him down onto the floor. There was a loud crack, followed by a scream.

“My wrist,” the ringleader cried out. “I think he broke my fucking wrist!”

The four other boys surrounded Will, throwing kicks and punches with fury. Will was overwhelmed by their sheer size and numbers, but he got in well targeted counter attacks before he hit the ground. Once down on the ground he kicked one of them in the knee but someone throat punched him. The world was starting to black out when the tides immediately turned. 

The attacker leaning over Will went flying as someone knocked him down. Will connected his elbow with someone’s jaw and his foot with another’s knee. 

“Who in the hell is that?” one of the goons shouted out. 

“No idea!” The ring leader said. “I don’t care. Kick his ass, too.”

A melee broke out. Will’s unknown ally was tall, blond and lean but most importantly, he was one hell of a dirty fighter. Will and his unknown ally fought in a strange synchronicity. Kicks and punches flew, blood splattered the floor. 

“Ow,” one of the minions cried out, clutching his bleeding arm. “He fucking bit me!”

His ally smiled and wiped the blood of his mouth. He grinned, teeth covered in blood. 

By the time a group of teachers separated them, Will was fighting back to back with his ally. They were out numbered and covered in blood, but not all of the blood was theirs.

“Break it up!” one of the teachers was yelling, pulling back one the others. 

“What in the hell is going on here?” the gym teacher boomed. 

“Graham broke my wrist,” the ringleader cried out and held out his injured arm. 

“Graham?” the teacher sputtered and barked a laugh. He glanced at Will who was at least thirty pounds lighter and several feet shorter than his supposed victim. 

“Who in the hell is this?” The music teacher asked, pointing at the new student. 

“The new kid,” the gym teacher said. “I don’t know what happened here, but you’re all in deep trouble.”

The new kid was readjusting the knot on his tie and tugging his blood stained blazer back in order. Silently his gaze connected with Will’s. His eyes were a shade Will had never seen before... maroon. Will should have done the polite thing and look away but he couldn’t. He felt his mind whirly connecting the dots...

He hated bullies. 

He knew how to fight because he had been bullied. 

“Oh,” Will half-whispered. 

Dangerous. He was very dangerous. 

He was smart. 

Will was enthralled. 

They were hauled into the head master’s office to wait for their impending doom. 

“Hello,” Will said.

The boy remained silent but his gaze tracked Will’s tongue when he licked his split lip. 

“We’re in deep shit,” Will said. 

He said nothing but frowned at the use of the swear word.

“Sorry,” Will said. “You don’t like vulgarity... it wasn’t... sorry. I’ll tell them it was my fault.”

No response. 

Will studied him. 

“You don’t want to be here,” Will said, “But you enjoyed the fight.”

He inclined his head with a nod. 

“Yeah, it was fun,” Will said. “Thank you, by the way, but I could’ve handled it.”

His ally smirked. 

Will slumped into his chair. 

“I could’ve,” Will said more than a little sullen. 

“Graham and Lecter, my office now!”

Will sighed. “Well, at least I have a name for my hero. Let’s go and face our destiny, Mr. Lecter.”

They went into the head master’s office and sat in the uncomfortable wooden chairs. The head master looked down at a file and then up at the teens. 

“Hannibal Lecter. Mr. Lecter, a fight on your first day?” The head master said and tsked. “That has to be a new record.”

“Sir, if was my fault,” Will said. 

The head master clutched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Mr. Graham, undoubtedly you ran your mouth yet again, but it wasn’t a fair fight... not that I condone fights in my school.”

“No, sir.”

“You want to loose your scholarship, Mr. Graham?” The head master asked. “Because that would mean you’re in the foster care system. You’re here-“

“Because my dad fell off your crappy roof and had the audacity to bleed out in your courtyard,” Will said. “You felt guilty.”

“You made some powerful enemies today and I doubt I can do anything for you. There’s no way you can room with-”

“He will stay with me,” Hannibal said. His voice was accented but firm.

The head master glanced down at the file, tapping the paper with a pencil. 

“Your Uncle paid sizeably for a single dorm room, Mr. Lecter.”

“Call my Uncle,” Hannibal said. The tone was haughty and his gaze fierce. “I can tell him about my welcome?”

“Mr. Lecter, I think you are making a hasty decision. Once you’re settled and have made friends, I’m sure-“

“I can tell him about my new friend, Will,” Hannibal insisted. “He will stay with me.”

Hannibal might have been talking to the head master, but he was staring at Will... staring like he was seeing something intriguing for the first time in a long time.


	3. Deviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jack have another conversation about The Murder Husbands. Will and Hannibal have a conversation about Freddie and Jack.

(Back to the present...)

“We’re changing targets,” Will said. “I want this one instead.”

Hannibal stopped from washing up the supper dishes and glanced over at the kitchen table. The table top was littered with Will’s research, newspaper clippings and coded notes with scribbles on their next target. Will was scowling at the screen. 

“But we’ve been tracking this particular pig for-”

“What you meant to say, Hannibal,” Will said without looking up from his tablet. “Is you booked the symphony tickets months ago when we first picked that pig and if we change targets then we can’t go to the symphony?”

“Well, the new First Chair is exquisite in-”

“I want this one,” Will repeated and tapped the tablet screen. “He needs to die. He needs to die soon and we need to make it hurt. I want to display him as the Virgin Mary and then eat his heart.”

Hannibal smiled indulgently and walked over the peer at screen. Will tapped the headline emblazoned across of TattleCrime.com - ‘New Serial Killer Terrorizes Single Mothers’.

Hannibal kissed Will’s cheek and said, “Of course, then. I love it when you’re predatory.”

“We’ll need appropriate cover,” Will said, flicking up the screen. “I assume you’ll select a hotel, local restaurant and something appropriately artsy for us to visit?”

“Of course,” Hannibal said. 

“We can change our flights, leave early and catch the symphony on a layover on the way home,” Will said. “You can pick my suit.”

“I always pick your suits,” Hannibal countered, but smiled. “Shall we paint the walls with his blood?”

Will smiled and glanced up at Hannibal. “You spoil me.”

“You’re worth it,” Hannibal said. 

HHHHHH

Jack came into the interview room and slammed the door behind him enough to make the ceiling lights rattle. 

“Ms. Lounds-”

“Oh, hello, Jack,” Freddie said with faux surprise. “Call me, Freddie.”

“Ms. Lounds-”

“Freddie,” sing-songed back at Jack. “I insist.”

“Fine, Freddie.”

She smiled at winning the small power struggle. “What can I do for you, Jack?”

“First of all, shut off and hand over all of your recording devices including your phone.”

“I feel like we have done this before,” she said, but pulled a smart phone from her bag and backup recorder from her pocket. With quick fingers, she shut them off and pushed them into the middle of the table. “I like to think of this as our room. So dark and dank.”

“All of them,” Jack repeated and made a grabby hand motion. 

Freddie smiled her best shark smile and repeated the process with her backup to the backup recorder hidden inside her jacket.

“It was worth a try,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Ms. Lounds,” Jack said, choosing to remain standing while Freddie lounged in the cheap chair. “You’re feeding them information.”

“Them?”

“Don’t play stupid,” he said. “Them.”

“I write about so many interesting people,” Freddie said. “You’ll have to narrow it down a bit. Be more specific.”

“Those murderers.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” she said. “I write a lot about murderers. It’s sort of my thing.”

“Some day soon we will know their real names when we arrest them and put them behind bars,” Jack said. 

“Not helpful,” Freddie said and clicked her tongue. “Maybe if you could tell me the moniker de jour?”

“Murder Husbands,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “Happy?”

“Delirious,” Freddie said. “What exactly about the fabulous Murder Husbands? I’m not supposed to play favourites, but I do love me some gay, married serial killers of serial killers.”

“Stop profiling,” Jack said. “That’s not your job and you’re not good at it. You have no proof they’re married.”

“They totally are,” Freddie laughed. “I’ve read Dr. Bloom’s profiles, remember? Codependent psychopaths of high order intelligence with shared delusional disorder with a focus on vigilantism and iconography. One probably has narcissistic personality disorder. The one with flair for the dramatic would totally insist they be married married. Fun times and definite click bait. I hope they’re hot. I imagine they like to-”

“I don’t care if they’re Quasimodo,”Jack snapped.

“I bet they’re totally hot,” Freddie added after seeing this was aggravating Jack. “I’d love photos of them fu-”

“Stop it!” Jack snapped. “You’re feeding them information.”

“Am I?” Freddie cocked her head to the side and pouted a little. 

“You posted a story about a new serial killer targeting single mothers and then he’s dead within a week and half. You might as well have tied him in a bow.”

“They are quick, aren’t they?” Freddie said. “You gotta a love a good work ethic... so hard to find these days.”

“That man would still be alive-”

“That murderer would still be murdering,” Freddie said. “I saw the crime scene photos of his demise. Beautiful iconography. A little more churchy than their usual work, but I get what they were going for. Fun date night... literally painting the town red.”

“How did you get the crime scene photos?”

“So many questions, Jack,” Freddie said. “Back to the Murder Husbands. For serial killers of serial killers they are awfully damn ethical.”

“Killers are killers.”

“Is that a quote, Jack?”

“No.”

“So, you’re going to tell that to the kids of the murdered single moms?” Freddie said.

“You’re feeding them information and it needs to stop,” Jack repeated, avoiding her pointed question.

“Nope,” she said. “Freedom of the press and all that. Besides, I may be tabloid trash with little to no morals but even I think-”

“No morals is about right.”

“I might not, but one of them does,” Freddie said. “I think my next headline might be - ‘Murder Husband with a Heart’. One of them feels deeply. That’s the one who decided to stop a mother killing monster. He’s the one who saved those kids from the last murder scene. Oh, I see by your expression that rescue was supposed to be too secret.”

“I will find the leak,” Jack said.

“Mmm, maybe... maybe not,” Freddie said.

HHHHHH

“Murder Husband with a Heart?” Will sputtered as he read the headline on TattleCrime.com. 

“It does have a certain ring to it,” Hannibal said.

“Hannibal...”

“Oh, and true. You are the ethos of this partnership. You always had a soft spot for children and animals. I would give you anything you want, even that-”

“There’s only you,” Will said. He grabbed Hannibal’s hand and held it tight.

“You enable my possessive side,” Hannibal said, but he smiled fondly. 

“I love your possessive side,” Will added.

“You are indeed a murderer with a heart.” 

Will groaned. “Don’t you start. No puns.”

Hannibal leaned over Will’s shoulder to read the tablet. “Rude.”

“Speculation on our hotness?” Will laughed. 

“Your beauty should not be in such vulgar terms.”

Will laughed again and pecked Hannibal on the cheek. “I take it we are ignoring her request for photos.”

“Crass,” Hannibal said.

“Ah, but otherwise you love the attention,” Will said. “If we didn’t want the headlines we probably shouldn’t be so dramatic with the displays.”

“Perhaps,” Hannibal agreed. “But where would be the artistry in that?”

“I do love you passion,” Will said. His eyes flicked back to the tablet and he tapped the screen. “She mentions this Jack character quite a bit. Seems like he is fixated on stopping us.”

“Which is why we moved here and befriended Dr. Bloom,” Hannibal said. “Keep your friends close-” 

“And your enemies closer,” Will finished for him.

**Author's Note:**

> The strange ethics of the Murder Husbands targeting other serial killers is sort of like “Dexter”. I think of Will tempering Hannibal.


End file.
